


Our L'Manberg: The Rise and Fall

by whodies



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Dream Team - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Multi, it was never mean't to be
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:40:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27796333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whodies/pseuds/whodies
Summary: “If we get no revolution, then we want nothing. We would rather die than give in to you.”“So be it.”An attempt at novelizing the events, relationships, and wars of the Dream SMP. Wanted to give it a more of a D&D fantasy feel. Had to alter some things (specifically some names) for it to make more sense world building wise, but I tried to stay as loyal as possible to the very chaotic lore.
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity/Karl Jacobs/Sapnap, Clay | Dream & Floris | Fundy, Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/Everyone, Karl Jacobs & Everyone, Zak Ahmed/Darryl Noveschosch
Comments: 13
Kudos: 63





	1. A begining

It was a small kingdom with a young king. The kingdom was isolated and had but a single export; potatoes. The young king was wicked, growing up spoiled with his father’s wealth. The villagers were poor and starving.

  
That is all to say, the revolt was to be expected.

  
It was a bloody battle. The working class against an all powerful ruler with infinite resources. Very bloody. But, in the end, the battle was won. The young king lost his head and his crown and a warrior was born. He had led the people in this uprising. Fought with a strength never before seen. Tales of this warrior reached all through the land.

  
Violent, some called him. An anarchist in a dead king’s crown.

The Blade, he soon would be called.

And yet, this is not the revolution we are here to hear. Nor is this our hero.  
Alas, no, our story takes place in another land some distance away.  
The mightiest nation some may say, ruled by a god among men.

Our tale will begin with a couple of friends, a special caravan, and a music disk. It will end in a similar, but deathly manner.

A gentleman arrives into the mighty kingdom with a business venture and a wagon. He has big plans for himself and his future. He parks his caravan in an empty field and begins to set up his signs. Not too far away, two young friends are peering down from their home in the hills. It’s a special place to them. They sit beneath a lemon tree, looking out into the setting sun and listening to a decrypted music disk. Their names are Thomas and Tobias. Thomas is the troublemaker out of the two, playing tricks and fighting with the people of the nearby town. He is the younger of the two, but when the times call for it, the more mature. Tobias is much more gentle and kind spirited, though he too will cause a ruckus when need be. He is less of a fighter and quietly intelligent, putting on a bit of an act. He is older than Thomas by a mere six months though he tends to act much more playful.  
From their spot on the hill they spot the gentleman unloading his caravan. They decide to investigate. After carefully stowing away the music disk, Thomas leads Tobias down the hill, wooden sword in hand.

  
“What are you doing over there, weirdo?” Thomas shouts as he approaches. The gentleman looks at the two young boys, barely into their preteens.

  
“Off with you. I’m not open yet.”

  
“Are you setting up a shop?” Tobias asks with a genuine interest.

  
The gentleman turns to the boys and gives them a better look. “Of a sorts, yes,” he says.

  
“What will you sell?” Tobias takes a step closer as Thomas grips his weapon.

  
“It’s a...special, yes a special drink.”

  
“Is it drugs?” Thomas jumps in. The gentleman is taken aback. He takes a better look at the boys. There is a vague recollection in their faces.

  
“Drugs? Are you mad?”

  
While the strange gentleman struggles to cover his tracks, Tobias has wandered off. He peers into the back of the caravan.

“Excuse me. What is that?” He says, pointing into the caravan. The gentleman hurries and closes the door.

  
“Mind your manners, sir. That is my daughter.”

  
“Why does she look like that?”

  
“Alright, ‘nuff of this. Why don’t you boys get on now?” The gentleman crosses his arm and stares down at the two young boys.

  
“You are mistaken. Why don’t you go ahead and show us your registration for your very much not drugs business here?” Thomas says, pointing with his wooden blade. Tobias nods. The gentleman can only run his hands down his face.

  
“Look here, lads, I believe we got off on the wrong foot. Name’s Wilbur. How would you two like to take part in a one of a kind business opportunity.”

Thomas lowers his blade and smiles, “I know who you are, Wilbur. Tell us about this business of yours then.”

  
Wilbur, with his charismatic grin, sweeps open the doors to the caravan. He steps in and motions the boys to follow. He racks his brain and tries to remember the boy’s face. The three of them are surrounded by glass jars filled with various powders and other odd looking substances. There are chest filled with glass bottles waiting to be filled and countertops covered in scribbled parchment and various brewing equipment. Beneath one of the counters is a sleeping figure of a young teen, only a couple years older than the two boys.

  
What made the teen peculiar was not their orange hair, but the pair of fox-like ears sprouting from atop their head. They open their golden eyes with slit shaped pupils and peer at the boys.

  
“Boys, this is Fundy. My perfectly normal daughter.”

  
“She has a tail,” Thomas points out. Sure enough a fox-like tail twists onto Fundy’s lap.

  
Wilbur changes the subject, taking a jar from a box and presenting it to the boys. The jar is partially full of orange powder. “You fellas know what this is?”

  
“Drugs.” Thomas insists.

  
Wilbur sighs, “It’s called Blaze Powder, it’s the secret ingredient to my special brews. It’s a scarce resource the days thanks to yours truly.”

  
Thomas looks to Tobias, “Drugs.” They boys nod. Thomas returns his glare to Wilbur. “Let me get this straight, you think you can just set up shop in the middle of the most powerful nation in all of the land and just sell drugs to the villagers?” Thomas taps his chin, “Smart man.”

  
“What makes this place so powerful? It can’t be much different than any of the other places I’ve traveled through,” Wilbur says with a shrug.

  
Tobias looks to Thomas, eyes wide. “He doesn’t know?”

  
“You’ve never heard of,” Thomas looks around, like he was afraid, “Ëndërr?”

  
“Is that your king?” Wilbur questions glancing at his peculiar child ears perk up with interest.

  
“He’s no king, but he is in charge, I suppose,” Thomas begins.

  
Tobias jumps up on a chest and throws his hands up in excitement. “They say he’s from another world. Born of the great dragon. A god among mortal men. His power is unlimited. He is rarely seen, but always feared. Few have seen his true face beneath his haunting mask.”

  
“Bit hyperbolic there, Tobias.” Thomas rolls his eyes and turns his attention back to Wilbur. A young man who seemed much older from his appearances. “But he’s not someone you want to get on the wrong side of...Trust me, I’d know.”

Wilbur snaps his fingers in realization and grasps onto Thomas’ shoulders. “Wait, Tommy? Look at you! I haven’t seen you in ages. You’ve grown so much!” He force Thomas into an awkward embrace.

  
“No, shit,” Thomas fails to mutter. “You ran off before I learned how to talk.”

  
“Good for me then.”

“Oh!” Tobias claps, a little behind on the reunion. “This is your brother. He doesn’t look like you described. Much less pink, I’d say.”

  
“No,Tobias, he’s the other one. The less cool one.”

Before the group could continue a knock came from the door. Sure enough, two armed soldiers stood outside the caravan. One that couldn’t be much older than Thomas and Tobias and yet, the stoic look on his face was enough to bring fear into the hearts of men. The other appeared just a bit younger than Wilbur.  
Wilbur exits the caravan as his young associates peer outside from the small window.

  
“How can I help you, young sirs?” Wilbur attempts to speak nonchalantly.

  
“Is this caravan yours?” Speaks the eldest of the two guards. This is Nicholas, the hot-headed, yet fiercely loyal general to Ëndërr’s guards. Wilbur nods and the other guard takes a step forward, hand on his weapon at all times. This is Grayson, arguably the strongest of Ëndërr’s guards, motivated only by his strong sense of justice. He remains quiet, letting his colleague do the speaking. “You seem to be setting up shop here on Dreadian territory. Mind showing us your registration?”

  
“Registration? Right. Yes, give me just one second, I’ll go grab it.” Wilbur holds up a finger as he backs himself back into the caravan. Once in, he turns to his new associates. “Last chance, you in or out. It can be just like old times.”

  
Thomas stretches out his hand and Wilbur shakes it. “Business partners then.” Fundy stands up and stands beside their father. “Fundy, say your piece with the nice law enforcement, hmm?”

  
Fundy pops their head from the caravan’s window. “Excuse me,” they say, accent sticking out from the others’. The guards turn their attention to the fox-like teen. “Fuck twelve.” Without another word, Wilbur scoops up as much blaze powder as he can and sprints from the back of the caravan, the two young boys following closely behind. The guards follow in chase.

Not too far from the events unfolding, in a nearby city, two individuals are having a meeting about an emerging construction project. These are Dr. Limau, the mayor of Lemon City, and Eret, a masterful architect. Lemon City, named for its several great lemon trees as well its main export, lemons, is the newest addition to the kingdom of Dreadian.  
Wilbur and his young colleagues sprint past the two, followed closely by the two armed guards. Interested in the conflict, they follow suit.  
Soon enough, Wilbur and the boys reach a dead end. Wilbur is quickly restrained by Grayson and the two boys cornered by Nicholas with a deadly crossbow aimed. Nicholas notices the jars, many of which have been broken now, and the powder.

  
“Blaze powder? Were you trying to deal blaze powder?” He makes eye contact with Thomas, “Of course. Still getting into trouble then, Thomas?” Thomas sticks out his tongue as his last act of defiance.

Nicholas looks to Grayson. “Come on, let’s escort ‘em to the holding cell. The judge will say his piece.”

It isn’t long before the three men stand behind iron bars in the intimidating courthouse. Wilbur keep calm. Thomas fails to mind his temper. Tobias is also there.

“All stand for Judge Danred.” The strange figure enters the courthouse. He is cloaked, his skin like squid’s ink. He is dressed in black and red and grey. He takes a seat and smiles genuinely.  
“What seems to be the problem?” He asks, a glimpse of demonic looking horns peeking from under his hood.

  
“Not only were these troublemakers conducting unregistered business, they were attempting to deal damn blaze powder.” Nicholas explains holding up a jar of the rare powder.

  
“Language! Blaze powder? That doesn’t seem very good.”

  
“It’s not. It’s very bad! At least I think so…” Nicholas explains. He looks to Lukas, another loyal guard, who can only shrug.

  
Wilbur stands up straight, “Your honor, this is all a grand mistake. The blaze powder is harmless. And I only got into this kingdom’s territory last night, so I had no idea about any of this registration business.”

  
Danred listens patiently. When Wilbur finishes his piece, Danred pull out a large and prestigious book. The courthouse goes quite as he thumbs through the pages, slowly finding the correct passage. “Ah, blaze powder, for what ever reason, is banned from the kingdom of Dredian. Therefore the sentencing is as follows: 600 hours of community service and a fine of ten thousand gold pieces each.”

  
“That’s absurd!” Thomas shouts.

  
“Would you prefer the alternative then?” Lukas speaks up, brandishing his sword. It almost seems to glow in the court house.

  
Thomas clenches his fists and opens his mouth, ready to spill a fountain of profanity. Wilbur rests a hand on his shoulder and shakes his head.

  
“Not here, Tommy. Not now.”

The trio is sent on their way. Thomas rants, but Wilbur has already begun thinking. There was no way he, nor his two companions, would be paying any such ridiculous fees. No. Wilbur was going to sell his Blaze powder. He had to. There was no real choice in the manner. He just needed to come up with a plan.

  
“If we can’t sell the Blaze powder here in Dredian, we’ll just go somewhere else,” Wilbur offers.

  
Tobias shakes his head. “Dreadian is vast. Their territory and rule are endless. Outside its border is unexplored wilderness, I bet.”

  
“Then we’ll just have to start our own nation,” Wilbur half jokes. Then he pauses. “Maybe we’ll fight back.”

  
“Wilbur, you sound ridiculous,” Thomas says.

  
“Thomas, think about it. We could build our own nation and then nobody could stop our business. Independent from Dredian!”

  
“Can we do that?”

  
“I say we try. We can secede. Mark our territory. A separate nation within the borders of Dreadian, out of Ëndërr’s rule.”

  
“Isn’t this all a bit extreme?” Tobias chimes in.

  
“Ëndërr is a tyrant. He rules by fear and with unfair rules. I think this kingdom could use a bit of a revolution,” Wilbur is passionate. Nobody can get a word in when he’s passionate.

  
“Maybe you’re right...but what would we call this nation?” Thomas inquires. Thomas is on board, which means Tobias is on board. They look to their elder.

  
“Any ideas?” Wilbur spies the caravan and begins to quicken his pace.

  
“Pogland. No. Pogtopia.”

  
“No. Tha-that’s awful, Tommy. Just awful.”

  
“How about...Manburg?”

  
“Needs more flair…” The trio have returned home, to the place that would start it all. “L’Manberg.” Wilbur gestures to the land around them.

  
“Our L’Manberg.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tbh I find this an excellent writing exercise. Trying to make Minecraft role play into something more coherent :)


	2. The Declaration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> L'Manberg declares independence followed by a declaration of war...

It wasn’t long before the revolutionaries got the attention they seeked. Their mission quickly spread throughout the kingdom. It started as simply rumours. Many even believed it to be some prank or troll. Surely they couldn’t be serious. 

Soon enough, however, the rumors found themselves on the proper ears.

Thomas and Tobias had begun constructing a physical border in order to mark their territory. They lacked much of the proper expertise and materials, instead opting to stack whatever they could get their hands on. 

Thomas looks back at the caravan that his older brother had arrived in. It sat in the center of the land they marked their claim on. Part of him was angry. His memories of Wilbur were limited. He was too young for all that rage. 

The other part of him was hopeful to have his family back.

He hasn’t been alone. Tobias and him have had their lives all but put together. They had each other and the music disk they worked so hard to keep. Though the boys were young, they have had their fair share of conflict. 

But still, he had heard stories of his brothers. Seen photos. Wilbur was almost a myth to Thomas. Someone he wanted to look up to. Someone he wanted to be like. 

Thomas swallows his pride and approaches the caravan. The least he could get were some answers. Inside the caravan, Wilbur is accidentally pricking himself with a sewing needle. Wilbur greets Thomas with a smile. 

“What are you doing, Wilbur?”

“Just putting the final touches to the uniforms,” he holds up the navy blue coat he has been sewing brass buttons to. “What do you think?”

“Pretty badass,” he says with a confident nod. “We haven’t been able to talk much. Catch up and all that.”

“I see. Let’s chat then.” Thomas leans against the counter beside Fundy, who is writing something in a small, leather bound book. Wilbur continues his sewing. “Where do you want to start?” 

“Where have you been? Since when did you have a daughter?”

“Fundy was born a daughter, but he’s told me he’d rather be a son,” Wilbur mentions.

Thomas is quiet and seems to inspect Fundy. “He’s still a furry.”

Fundy’s protests are ignored as his father continues to explain. “You were just born after it was my time to leave the nest. A met a woman-”

“A fish. You told me she was a salmon,” Fundy interrupts. 

Thomas’ jaw drops in a mixture of disgust and shock. He is ignored. “Yes, that’s right. Sally the salmon. Fundy’s mother. She was an accountant.” Thomas shakes his head trying to focus.

Before Wilbur can continue, Tobias calls from outside.

“Uh, guys. We have a visitor,” he says.

A bit too close for comfort, outside the newly forming border of L’Manberg, the rumors have at last reached the ears of Ëndërr. He listens expressionlessly behind his porcelain mask as his guard, his long time friend, tells him of L’Manberg. 

“You’re kidding...you’re not kidding.” His grip tightens on his axe, he speaks as if he has a small smile creeping onto his lips. A smile of disbelief. “Equip up. Get George. Let’s see this revolution.” 

A tall figure stands outside L’Manberg. Eyes hidden and a kind smile on his lips, he introduces himself, his deep voice a bit startling at first. Eret. 

“I too am tired of Ëndërr’s tyrannical rule. I want to join you. I can help you,” Eret promises.

Wilbur steps forward, “Help us? How so?”

“I see your attempts at strengthening your border. I can build you mighty walls to protect your new nation. For L’Manberg.”

Thomas, Wilbur, and Tobias converge with one another. “Can we trust him?” Wilbur asks the others.

“How could we?” Thomas says much too loudly, “Why is he hiding his eyes, hmm?”

“It’s a...medical condition,” Eret answers. Thomas squints at him. 

“Show me then.”

“Tommy!” Wilbur begins to scold.

“No. No. It’s alright. I’ll show you, but I need you to promise me not to freak out.”

“I promise,” Thomas says. 

Eret nods and reveals his eyes. His solid white eyes that seem to glow in certain light. A curse? Perhaps.

After a solid second of silence, Thomas screams and runs the opposite direction. Wilbur stretches out his arm to Eret. “Welcome to L’Manberg, friend.” They shake hands. 

The very next day, Eret began construction of L’Manberg’s towering black walls accented by bits of yellow. He works quickly and efficiently, completing the project in only a couple of days. 

While the L’Manbergians built up their nation, forming it as a true home for themself. Ëndërr, Nicholas, and George see the great walls that have seemed to sprung up. The three friends stand atop a hill, looking at this attempt of revolution. Ëndërr motions for George to stand beside him. He swings one arm around his shoulder and waves the other at the setting sun. 

“Look, everything the light touches is our kingdom. A king's time as a ruler rises and falls like the sun. One day, George, the sun will set on my time here, and will rise with you as the new king,” he says.

George laughs, “Shut up. Isn’t there something we need to be doing?” Ëndërr laughs now and produces a bundle of TNT from seemingly thin air. 

The men are awoken in the middle of the night to the sound of explosions. Eret is the first to rush out, climbing the walls to see none other than three armoured men. Front and centers is the masked man himself, the taunting smile haunting those who lay their eyes on him. 

Wilbur and Thomas are close behind. “Is that...him? Ëndërr?” Wilbur asks. 

Thomas nods. Wilbur wants to laugh, this appears to be no almighty ruler standing before him. He was barely an adult. Wilbur would be mistaken. The masked figure shouts from outside the walls. His two comrades fail at hiding their smiles.

“I have you surrounded with devastating cannons. I have demonstrated what they are capable of. I wanna see white flags! White flags! On your base! By tomorrow! At dawn! Or you are DEAD! I have no mercy for you. No mercy!” 

The men are speechless at this demonstration. It has become clear that this would not be any easy fight. They were out manned, out gunned, and out skilled. 

Perhaps if they were smarter, they'd give up.

But more than anything, they were stubborn. 

As Ëndërr and his comrades went their way with the promise to return still stinging in the air. 

“Wilbur...what do we do? Do we surrender?” Thomas asks looking at the damage. 

“How did they even do this? Where did these cannons even come from?” Tobias inquires, appearing seemingly out of nowhere, he studies the weapons from a safe distance. 

Wilbur has gone quite. Quite enough to hear the gears turning in his brain. His eyes dart from the small craters to the cannons to the caravan. Back and forth, trying to form some thought. Some connection. 

Suddenly he’s climbing down the wall and heading to the caravan. Thomas, Tobias, and Eret follow from some distance. Waiting for their leader to make sense.

He clears off a table in the caravan and retrieves a small, leather bound book.

“That’s mine,” Fundy says. Wilbur tears out a fistful of pages. He begins to write across the top of the page in big. bold letters: ‘DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE’.

The others stand around and watch as he continues to write, speaking his words aloud to his comrades.

“Forever the kingdom of Dreadian have cast great sins upon our great land. They have robbed us. Imprisoned us. Threatened us. This time of tyranny ends with us. This book declares that the nation which shall be henceforth known as L'Manberg is separate, emancipated and independent from Dreadian.

“The union of the masters of men. Together we are one. When in the course of human events it becomes necessary for one to dissolve the bonds which bind us. Disregarding of this truth is nothing short of tyranny. We hold these truths to be self evident that all men are created equal.”

“Underline men,” Thomas says.

“The right of the people exists above the right of the king,” Wilbur continues, “The right of the government and the right of the economy. From the caravan we shall prevail. Life. Liberty. And the pursuit of freedom.” The ink is still wet and smudging slightly when he goes to sign his name.

“Now we sign it,” Wilbur says, handing the feather quill to Tobias. Tobias signs, without a second thought and passes it to Thomas. 

Thomas signs with a grin and hands it to Eret, who largely signs his own name. Fundy reaches for the document, but it is swiped up by Wilbur who gently blows on the wet ink and folds it up neatly before handing it back to Eret.

“Eret, would you do the honor of delivering this into the proper hands,” Wilbur offers.

Eret nods and quickly goes off on his task.

“You sure about this?” Thomas asks.

“I have not a single doubt in my mind,” Wilbur responds.

Thomas nods. They watch as the sun rises on their land. They say a silent prayer that it will not be the final time.

“Dream-er, I mean- Ëndërr, they have delivered this. Their official declaration of independence.” George hands him the document. Ëndërr holds up the document to his face. George wonders how he can read behind his mask.

“Then we declare war on L’man-child-berg,” Ëndërr states matter-of-factly.

“You mean, L’Manberg?”

“That’s what I said.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been so long since I've written chronologically...something to get used to


	3. The Great War for Independence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The great war begins, but a traitor lies among us...

There was once a time where the stakes felt so low. The conflict was like an inside joke or some childhood game. There was a time where it was just Thomas and Tobias and a couple of music disks. That was all that mattered. 

But the stakes have changed. That much us clear.

The few citizens of L’Manberg spend the day preparing for war. Small structures are built, including an emergency bunker should things turn to the worst. Weapons and potions and armor is sorted.  
All while Ëndërr and his forces wait just outside for the next dawn.

“We’re outgunned, wouldn’t you say?” Eret says as the now soldiers stand in the caravan. From the corner of his eye, Wilbur spots a figure, cloaked in green standing and watching and waiting.

“We’re outgunned, out manned, outnumbered, and out planned.” He turns and begins approaches the figure watching from atop the walls. “Listen. We will meet you on the fields, but on our own terms.”

“Yeah!” Thomas hypes, standing behind Wilbur both literally and spiritually. 

“Please, stop making things worse,” Tobias insists. Ëndërr only nods and proceeds to jump down from the towering walls. Wilbur now turns to his own forces made up of children, his son, and a newly trusted friend. He decides that now his the time to say his piece, to rally the troops.

“Thomas, I’m putting you in charge of this battalion.” Bad idea. “I trust you. Just remember, no matter what happens in this war, whether we win or lose, we are on the right side of history.” 

A wide and prideful smile spreads onto Thomas’ face. He salutes his leader, his brother, his friend. And then they are off, just as the sun begins to rise on a new day. 

They march across the river, north of their border and are soon greeted by dark, bricked tower that has seem to sprung up over night. Atop the tower stands Ëndërr, Nicholas, George, and Lukas. All armed and ready to end this here and now.

“Gentlemen,” Thomas begins. It quickly becomes clear the drastic difference in the weapons and armor the two forces have. L’Manberg is quite ill equipped.

The L’Manbergians, noticing this disparity, now understand what they are up against. There would be no peaceful end for them. Ëndërr offered them a chance to surrender, a chance he knew they would not take. The earth beneath their boots was parched, but soon it would be fed the blood of eager men.

“I see no white flags outside your walls. I’ve read your declaration,” Ëndërr motions to the rising sun. “This is your last chance.”

“If we get no revolution, then we want nothing. We would rather die than give in to you,” Wilbur has set the stakes.

“So be it. You’ll die then. All of you.” Ëndërr gladly accepts these terms. He looks to his friend, Nicholas, who aims his crossbow with a flaming arrow to the ground and shoots. For a moment, the world seems calm and quite, but soon enough the explosions begin. Ëndërr and his forces have stuffed the earth below them with explosives. 

“Stand back! Get back!” The L’Manbergians cry out to each other. The find themselves backed into a corner, stomping the surrounding fires out and try to ignore their own searing flesh and ringing ears. 

“Who’s got a bow?” Thomas and Tobias both hold up their own crossbows. “Rain on them!” Wilbur shout. Eret notices Wilbur’s coat is still smoldering with flames and puts him out with a bucket of water. 

The commotion is loud. It’s chaotic. There’s is talk of retreat, but Wilbur dismisses the fear. He speaks with courage, he tries to organize the troops once more. They were caught by surprise, but the fight was not over yet. 

“I’ll distract them. You must rain fire on them. Keep shooting. We want them to come down off that damn tower.”

This plan seems to be working. Ëndërr looks to his forces. “Retreat,” he says and the seem to leap from the tower and run into the distance.

“Keep firing! We have the higher ground now,” Wilbur instructs.

“They’re heading to Lemon City. They’ll climb the main tower,” Eret says.

Tobias points out towards their destination, “There’s another one nearby. Just about the same height.”

“It could be a trap,” Thomas says, “We need to be careful. Follow me.”

He leads them to the second tower, just within range of Ëndërr and his forces.”

“I see them,” Wilbur says, “They’re a at the base of the tower.”

“They’re shooting at me,” Fundy says, dodging behind the sparse trees.

“They are firing at Fundy,” Wilbur narrates. Fundy fumbles with his pastel blue coat and scrambles to retrieve and drink a potion of invisibility.

The L’Manberg battalion continue their raining of arrows until Ëndërr and his forces disappear from their vision and the world grows quiet once again. They wait a moment before celebrating the victory fo winning their first battle.

They cheer and joke and laugh as they walk back towards their great L’Manberg. They knew the war had not yet reach the end, but the relished in holding their own against impossible odds. On their way home, Eret interrupts their celebrations. 

“Gentlemen, in L’Manberg, I have built for us, a secret weapon.”

“Secret weapon? What is it?” Tobias asks.

“ I will show you,” Eret says, “Follow me. Quickly. I have prepared our final resort to win this war.”

Eret leads the rebels, the citizens of L’Manberg, into a hidden cave. They exclaim in statements of shock and impressive surprise. He leads them down a cramp hallway, “This way, gentleman, I am excited to show you. They will never suspect a thing.” The hallway feels endless. It seems to spiral downwards. 

At last, the revolutionaries comes to a pristine, well crafted room. Chests are set against the walls, lit only by dim lanterns. In the center of the room, is a single button, carved from wood.

“This is the final control room, where it all happens.” Tobias and Thomas look around the room, jaws agape in wonder. Wilbur opens one of the chest and discovers its lack of content. The chests are empty. Fundy, still experiencing the effects of the potion, studies the button.

“Eret, there’s nothing in the chests?” Wilbur turns to look at his new friend, who helped built the walls to keep his nation safe. 

Eret presses a button in the middle of the room, opening hidden doors in the walls that release the armed Dredian soldiers onto the L'Manbergians. 

“No! A traitor!” Wilbur calls out, “Get out! Get out

Their surprise quickly morphs into fear and paralyzing shock. The only word they can muster are various of “What?” and shouts of devastation. They scramble towards the narrow exit, but to no avail.  
Nicholas slashes at Tobias. Ëndërr knocks Thomas to the ground. Wilbur is stabbed at by Lukas. And Fundy, backing himself into a corner, watching as the effects of invisibility wear off at the worst moment, is sliced at by George.

Eret delivers one final salute. “Down with the revolution, boys. It was never meant to be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is a bit shorter, but i love cliffhangers too much :)


	4. The Duel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When all hope is lost, Thomas is willing to lose it all. Including his life.

“Yes! let’s go!” Ëndërr laughs. His laugh is like ice. The Dreadians and Eret relish in their victory, relish in the betrayal. They’ve disarmed L’Manberg. They’ve bled L’Manberg, both from their bodies and their heart.

“Eret? How could you?” Wilbur struggles to spit out his words.

Thomas is standing, but just barely. He looks into Eret’s shaded eyes. He turns his neck to the prideful, masked man. “Listen to me and I mean this in the nicest way possible. You fucked up.”

“Farewell, gentlemen,” Eret’s final words. The Dreadians and Eret head off to enjoy their show of power, leaving the wounded soldiers in various states of consciousness. 

Tobias eyes lid flip open as their voices grow distant. He stands, breath heavy. Thomas helps his comrades stand on their on two feet. Tobias leads them to safety.

They enter the caravan. All the men slowly begin bandage their wounds to the best of their ability. 

“We were doing so well. We were winning and now...we have nothing,” Wilbur says.

Thomas is rambling in a pit of rage, the others can only catch an occasional word, usually a swear. Tobias and Fundy are sat on the counter. Wilbur produces a spray bottle and sprays water at Fundy.

“Off the counters, gentlemen. What do you think this is?”

“Sorry, Sorry,” Tobias leaps off.

“That was excessive,” Fundy grumbles, following Tobias’ lead. Wilbur aims the bottle again, “I understand now. I won’t do it again, please.”

“Bad, bad fox.”

The interaction is cut short by Thomas’ rant growing louder.

“Eret! No! I can’t believe this,” he says.

“He’s a monster,” Wilbur supplies. Thomas nods. “He knows all our plans. He can share that with them. What do we have? Thomas?” Thomas searches the coat of his pockets and stutters. “Tobias?”

“I have absolutely nothing,” Tobias answers.

“Fundy, what do you have?”

“I have a crayon suit. What the fuck are you asking from me?”

“Fair enough. I’ll have to convene with their general. See if we can end this peacefully.” Wilbur marches out of L’Manberg’s walls to meet with Ëndërr.

“Our declaration of independence is signed by a traitor,” Thomas realizes, sadly. 

While the wounded men lie in wait, Wilbur smells the smoke of the burning forest north of their borders. Nicholas pockets the flint and steel as Wilbur approaches. Wilbur calls out to Ëndërr. “I wish to speak to you privately. I come alone and unarmed. Please send your men away.”

Ëndërr waves his men back and steps towards Wilbur. “I’m alone, but I am very armed.”

“Fine. I’m in no bargaining position.”

As Wilbur begins to speak, to show an act of desperation, a want for peace, Thomas shouts from behind him. 

“Gentlemen,” Thomas says.

“Tommy, leave.” Wilbur nearly begs.

“I-”

“Thomas, you are dismissed,” He tries again.

“You son of a bitch!” Thomas shouts at Ëndërr, “Why would you-”

“Thomas, you are dismissed!” Thomas quickly falls silent and slowly backs away, Wilbur turns back to Ëndërr, “Sorry about that. I am here to make negotiations with you. We don’t wish for bloodshed. We don’t wish for war. We don’t wish to show out power in anyway. We just want freedom.”

Ëndërr listens to Wilbur’s monologue, then he speaks once more. “Do you wanna know what I want?”

“What do you want, Ëndërr?”

“I want white flags up. I want your surrender. And I’ll tell you this, if that doesn’t happen in the next few minutes, I will blow up all of L’Manberg.”

Wilbur feels his heart race, attempting to escape. He stays calm. “Who do you thing you are?”

“I am powerful,” Ëndërr says.

“Oh, I’ve heard. Show us then.” Wilbur beckons his men. The boys approach the entry of L’Manberg. 

“Wilbur?” Tobias is the first to speak, his eyes never leaving Ëndërr, “What’s going on?”

“Listen. We have been given an ultimatum. He has said that if we don’t surrender now, he will blow up out L’Manberg. Stand beside me now, independence or death. Nothing more and certainly nothing less.”

Ëndërr’s men appear at the entrance. Ëndërr produces a single piece of TNT, lights it, and tosses it to the ground without so much as a single word.

“Stand back. Don’t let this little bit of TNT hurt you,” Wilbur says.

As the single explosive goes off, an all to familiar shaking of the earth before their boots. Ëndërr and his forces have stuffed the earth below them, the ground of L’Manberg itself, with seemingly infinite explosives, now going off in a great chain reaction.

The revolutionaries stumble and run back. “Wait! What! No!” Wilbur has failed, he has led his men to danger once more.

“This way,” Tobias shouts, “Beneath the water.” Tobias leads the terrified battalion into the small lake down a small hole dug by Thomas and Tobias prior.

“When did you make this?” Wilbur exclaims.

“Well, I figured chances are we will need to run and-oh, we don't have time Wilbur! Follow me! Follow me!”

They run down a small and cramp tunnel that already brings up distasteful memories as the world above them shakes.

The boys escape into the bunker, hidden beneath the caravan. They were safe. For the time being at least. They catch their breath and crouch around the small space until the air is still and quiet once more.

“You know what we have left, Tobias. We have each other.” He pulls at  a music disk and sets in to play, “And the music disk. The one Ëndërr will never get his hands on.”

Tobias, rolls his eyes at the mention of the disk. It was only a couple of years prior the two boys had ended the conflict surrounding those cursed disks. The memories are still fresh. It started with Thomas finding those two disks, from where he’d never say. All they knew was that they had them and Ëndërr wanted them. 

Ever since Phil left to help his adoptive son, to explore the greater world. Ever since Thomas and Tobias were left to their own devices, the two young boys had left their mark upon Dreadian and a mark it was. Destruction of property, ruthless pranks on the various citizens, and various forms of trickery. Their was even a short period of time in which Ëndërr had exiled Thomas for his crimes.

It didn’t last long.

If one thing was certain, Ëndërr loved control. And young Thomas, was not a force to be tamed, especially not when accompanied by his dear friend, Tobias. They had spent so long, fighting with this powerful being over a couple of music disks, but even they were unaware of the full range of capabilities he held. 

And now, he they were. Facing his power once again.

But they weren’t alone and they still had each other. 

And those bloody disks.

Thomas’ words shake with his nerves, “Now I’m not really sure how long we have left, so any last words?”

“Okay? Wasn’t expecting that from you,” Tobias says.

“Well, this was supposed to be more of a last resort bunker. I didn’t think we’d need it.”

“Will, this is the point where pull out the sly last move. Please,” Fundy says to his father. Wilbur’s eyes can only dart around at the cramp space and the tired and panicked faces of his comrades. 

“They’ve destroyed everything. Everything we've built. Wilbur, what do we do? ” Thomas chokes down his fear. 

“What’s the plan, Wilbur?” Tobias adds.

“Listen...there is no plane. I think...I think we just need to accept the conditions of surrender. We negotiate. We end this once and for all. We can’t afford anymore blood to be spilled.”

“Wilbur. No, this can’t be the end,” Thomas pleas.

“Tommy, I want you to come with me. To meet with Ëndërr. And I want you to make sure you don’t run your mouth. No challenging him on his honor. None of that, okay? It over.”

“Okay…Gentlemen, it has been an honor.”

“You did good, Tommy,” Wilbur says, “You were a good right hand man. It’s a shame really. That it has to end like this.”

Tobias and Fundy search among the damaged land and Thomas and Wilbur go on to face Ëndërr one final time.

“Don’t do anything rash, Thomas. Just follow my lead.” Wilbur looks to Ëndërr and speaks, “I am here to negotiate surrender.”

He nods and Wilbur takes a step forward ,” I’d say we fought well, yes?.”

Ëndërr taps his chin, “Uh, you can say that, sure.”

“What do you mean we can say that?”

Ëndërr laughs.

Thomas interrupts, as he tends to, “Don’t start that you egotistical, green bastard.” Wilbur stifles his own laugh. 

“Tommy, Tommy, what did I say earlier? Tommy. Calm.” Wilbur works to simmer Thomas’ boiling rage. It’s much too late now, he begins marching towards Ëndërr and rants. 

Among his incomprehensible rants, Wilbur picks out the basis of what Thomas remarks. He wants a duel. 

“A one man showdown, you son of a bitch.”

“Tommy! Your passion will get you nowhere.”

“I don’t care. What do you have to lose?” Thomas continues to Ëndërr, ignoring Wilbur.

“What was the one thing I asked?” Wilbur runs his hand down his face.

“Will, you know I got to do this.”

Ëndërr crosses his arms and leans forward. “What were you thinking? Bows?”

“Bows. Ten paces.”

“Ten paces,” Ëndërr chuckles. 

“Ëndërr, look at me. Look me in the eyes, wherever your eyes are.”

Wilbur has to stiffen a laugh, it doesn’t lessen his stress, “Tommy. This is worth it.” It really wasn’t, was it? What has this all come to? Didn’t this all start with Wilbur’s desire to sell an illegal substance? 

And now, his brother may be receiving an arrow through his heart.

“Tommy, your life is worth more than the revolution.” So much for independence or death.

“Wilbur, look around us. This could’ve been home.”

After much thinking,Ëndërr speaks up. “If you win, you can have your independence.” Wilbur’s jaw drops. This was unexpected. “If you lose, you don’t get independence.” Surely, it couldn’t be this simple. 

Thomas lets out a long held breath.

“I win, L’Manberg is independent. You win, you will have your peace and quiet.” Alas, this wasn’t what Ëndërr wanted, but still, a smile crept onto his lips. He agrees to the duel. 

As the sky begins to turn bright with stars, both parties stand on the hill. In the distance is L’Manberg, waiting for the results. The hearts of L’Manberg beat in unison, a rhythm of nerves. 

Fundy approaches Thomas. “Listen, I’m not fully supporting your decisions, but...good luck.” He hands him a bow.

Ëndërr and Thomas across from one another. They close the distance between them and shake hands. They turn and stand back to back, each with a bow notched with a single arrow.

“Ready?” Wilbur asks. Both nod, Wilbur begins to count up. With each count, the men take a step forward. “Nine, ten paces, fire.” 

Ëndërr and Thomas spin around and take their aim and release their arrows across the path. The world seems to turn slowly as Wilbur watches Thomas’ arrow whiz past the head of Ëndërr. He turns to Thomas just as Ëndërr’s arrow lodges itself in Thomas’ shoulder. Thomas falls backwards, eyes wide. 

“There we go. It has been settled then,” Ëndërr says, calmly. George chuckles and Tobias rushes to his friend’s side. Thomas grimaces at the pain. This can’t be over yet, he thinks. Not like this. 

“Wait! The music disk! I’ll give you the music disk. Both of them.”

“That’s it? You’ll just give it to me?”

“For L’Manberg, for my home, yes. It’s yours.” 

Ëndërr considers this. “It’s a deal then.” He stretches out a hand, Thomas shakes it. As he goes to leave this affair behind he stops by Eret.

“Eret. For your aid in the war, I officially crown you as King of Dreadian. As king, you are to remain neutral in future conflict.”

“Thank you. I won’t let you down.”

“Fuck you, Eret,” Thomas shouts from a distance. Tobias helps him stand.

“Fair enough,” Eret says.

“And you smell and are bad and I never liked you anyway,” Wilbur continues.

“Oh,” Eret says.

“And your voice isn’t even that good, “ Fundy adds. Wilbur nods. Eret can’t help but laugh as he heads off to take his throne and crown.

The newly independent citizens of L’Manberg head home.

Wilbur looks to the walls of his nation and then to his son, “Fundy, I am an old man. When I’m all gone and dead, you’ll be inheriting this.”

Fundy looks at the rubble that comprised L’Manberg. “Thanks,” he says, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Do you remember the poem Ozymandias, Fundy? The one I told you so long ago.” Fundy nods. “Recite it for me. For us.”

“My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings;

Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!

Nothing beside remains. Round the decay

Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare

The lone and level sands stretch far away.”

“Is there any more?” Thomas asks.

“No. That’s it. As far as I’m concerned,” Fundy dismisses. 

The sun rises and falls once more of the land.

Wilbur looks upon L’Manberg’s initial declaration of independence, now framed in the caravan. Thomas hands a bundle of paper to Wilbur.

“I don’t want that traitor’s name anymore.”

Wilbur nods and begins to draft a new declaration of independence Witnessed by Ëndërr, George, Nicholas and Lukas (Also Eret to the dismay of the L’Manbergians). The men stand outside the caravan and sign the document. First by one President Wilbur. Wilbur extends the declaration to Thomas. “My right hand man and Treasury of State, Thomas”, he signs it with a prideful smile.

“Tobias. I want you to be Sectary of State,” Wilbur says. 

Tobias gasps with excitement. “What does that mean?”

“Do you really-?” Thomas begins, with a teasing tone.

“I do,” Wilbur says, confidently. Tobias signs. “And Fundy,” Wilbur turns to his son. Fundy stands up tall and Wilbur continues, “who’s my little c hampion? Who’s my little champion? Little, fluffy cheeks. Give it a little signature.” His condescending tone brings roaring laughter to Tobias and Thomas. Fundy blankly stares at his father. 

Wilbur looks to Fundy’s pastel uniform in adoration, “Give it a little sign, you little crayon wearing boy.”

Fundy sighs, “Okay.” He signs his name.

“My son! We have independence. We did it!” L’Manberg cheers. The victory was well earned. Wilbur holds up the completed document.

“This is it. Our new declaration of independence. Our freedom.”

“Now what?” Thomas inquires.

Wilbur looks at the land. His land. His L’Manberg. “Now we rebuild. And we plan.”

“Plan for what?”

“Thomas. We are going to get those disks back. I promise.” He smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> basically done with my finals so hopefully I can try my best to catch up :)


	5. An election

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilbur wants to hold an election to console his power. Things do not go according to plan.

With the treaties signed, L’Manberg flourished. In the time that followed, L’Manberg gained new citizens. A kindhearted baker setting up shop by L’Manberg’s nearest port. A drug dealer(?) And Jack Manifold. 

To name just a few.

As for the disks, Ëndërr had hidden one away. The other he gave to Danred and his spouse, (Nobody was exactly sure, but their frequent arguments usually resulted in threats of divorce.) Zak. They stowed it away for safe keeping in a vault beneath their sparsely furnished, but extravagant quartz mansion. 

There was a period of peace in Dreadian, beside for the occasional mishap. A L’Manberg embassy was even established in the lands of Dreadian which allowed for ease of travel between the two lands.

As were two large and intimating towers that sprung up on the east and west, just outside of L’Manberg’s walls. A gift from King Eret.

And within the towering walls, L’Manberg’s cabinet began to fall apart. Just bits, just arguments and a word or two take too far. Borrowing without permission. It was to be expected of sharing a small space for so long.

Thomas, a young teenager now, did his best to keep the peace. Did his best to remind the others of the battle they had fought. He built a park. But as the months turned into years, something seemed off. 

Soon enough, Wilbur sat Thomas down in the caravan. The caravan only functioned as a historical meeting place, one of the many memorials dotting the nation.

Wilbur was excited about something. He had lately been spending much of his time alone.

“Where have you been? Your son almost started a civil war and I had to calm everyone down.” Indeed, Fundy has been starting, arguably justifiable, trouble. He was like his father in that way.

“So you see it then,Thomas. I’m losing power and I’ve got a plan,” Wilbur says, “Democracy. An election. And I want you to be my running mate, my true vice president. What better way for people to believe your in charge then have them vote for you.” 

Thomas could admit that people were restless. Sure, they may have built this nation through revolution, but what was to stop another? They won the war, this is true, but they were no where near prepared for future conflict. Peace never lasts.

“An election. Against who?” 

“No one! No one yet opposes my power, but it will give the people the illusion of choice. I’ll be able to console my power. Put our people at ease. You can rebel against a tyrant, but what’s the point in going against a democratically elected leader?”

“Wilbur...you genius.”

“You write up a ballot, announce our campaign, and close it before anyone even gets the chance to throw their hat in the ring. It’s perfect.” Thus, Wilbur’s next passion project was born. Thomas admired the thought. It could work.

_ Right? _

The gentlemen, bonded by blood, get to work. They draft up their beliefs, their polices, their promises. 

They are soon approached by a recent resident, Alex. A business man through and through and a fast friend of Thomas. He was a frequent resident of alleyways and easily spotted from beneath his blue knit beanie. Wilbur and Thomas are gathering supplies to construct a stage in the park to host their commencement. They joked and laughed and smiled, excited for their new project. 

“What’s going on over here, gentlemen?” Alex asks.

Wilbur looks to Thomas and says, “Well, it wouldn’t hurt to give him a sneak peek. Before it’s all official.” Alex’s ear perk up, he listens. “We’re running for president.”

“President?” Alex’s tone is a brew of confusion and surprise. 

“People are not listening to us. There’s almost been civil wars and shit,” Thomas explains.

Without a second thought, Wilbur divulges the plan. An election with no opponent. He shows them their half thought out promises. Perhaps he wanted to impress him.

Alex was not impressed.

“That’s not an election then, is it?” Alex says, stepping on the half made stage.

“Well, the election doesn’t really even matter. It’s just for show,” Wilbur explains.

“I have an announcement,” Alex shouts, a few people stop and listen. Mostly he only gets a few mere glances from passerbyers. Wilbur and Thomas look at their friend, at a loss for words. “You two are a threat to democracy and I can not stand by and let the injustice unfold,” Alex continues. 

Thomas turns to Wilbur, “Pinch me. This can’t be happening. Pinch me.”

Wilbur punches Thomas in the shoulder. It is happening.

“I am going to run against you. I am officially announcing my campaign for president of L’Manberg as the party of SWAG.”

“What? No, you can’t. The ballots-fuck-Tommy, we didn’t close the ballot yet,” Wilbur is beginning to panic. This was supposed to be easy.

“Wait, wait, who’s your running mate then?” Thomas asks.

Alex smirks, “Oh, you’ll see, Thomas, you’ll see.” Alex hops of the platform. “See ya at the debate, then?” And he is gone.

And things were not working the way they had hoped. 

“Wilbur, what do we do?”

Wilbur thinks for a moment. He looks at the nation they had built, the towering walls that kept them safe, the ground they had rebuilt. 

“We win, Tommy. We win this election. No matter the costs.”

Thus the campaigning began. Thomas and Wilbur brandished their polices to the citizens of L’Manberg. Thomas slowly began to embark on the slanderous approach, spreading rumors and half truths about their opponent.

“You know he’s known for trafficking drugs,” Thomas says.

“Eh, that’s kinda how our nation got started,” Wilbur reminds.

It wasn’t until the debate where things took a turn for the worse.

The courthouse is familiar and crowded. Wilbur, Thomas, Tobias, and Jack Manifold stand on one side. They wear their war uniforms, a reminder of who they were and what they had done for the nation. 

They built it.

On the other is Alex and his running mate. George of Dreadian. Beside him stands Nicholas and Karl Jacobs. 

Wilbur pulls Thomas to the side, to get their thoughts in order.

“George? George is his running mate? He’s not even part of L’Manberg,” Thomas rants. 

“It’s fine. We’ll be fine. What do we believe in? What are we fighting for?”

“Primarily freedom,” Thomas thinks aloud. Wilbur laughs.

“Okay then, let’s win ourselves a debate.”

As they resume their place behind the podium, Fundy enters the courthouse. Wilbur beckons his son over, he does not move from the entrance. 

“Fundy, this is your moment to choose. Do you take your father or Alex? POG or SWAG.”

Fundy crosses his arms and looks to his father, “I’m not voting for you, father. I choose neither. I’m running against you.”

“Ignore him. Ignore him,” he looks to his growing son, “No. No you’re not. You’re a child. You’re too young. You’re going through your rebellious teenage phase and I won’t have it interrupt my work. Besides, the ballot is closed. He missed the sign up.”

“Listen. I know you. You know what you’re doing, but there is one thing you are missing…” The crowd is growing, waiting. “I have a bakery and I can deliver cookies and-” His bribery is interrupted.

“You’ve missed the ballot, Fundy. Now stand in your place.”

He turns to Alex, “Then I support Alex. I am voting for SWAG.” He steps back and takes his place on the opposing parties side. Wilbur goes silent as his opponents celebrate this mild victory.

Thomas shares a few choice words, Tobias reminds him that at least they still have their friendship. Wilbur mumbles to himself, “My own son.” Wilbur shakes his head, sucks in a breath, and stands up tall.

The debate begins. Karl Jacobs acts as a neutral moderator, asking questions to the two candidate running for president. He asks about territory, healthcare, taxes, and the rampant murder of pets across the land. The former which results in Nicholas studying the ceiling and whistling a tune. 

The debate grows heated. Wilbur continues to remind everyone the blood that had been spilled, including his own, to build the nation. Alex brings up the corruption of Wilbur’s initial election plan. Karl ends their argument and it is time for the vice presidents to debate. George and Thomas stand behind their podiums.

Once more, the debate turns into passionate arguments. Thomas shouts about the cruelty of the war, the war in which George fought against L’Manberg, and the wreckage it brought to their lands. George is calm.

“And who wins in war? Nobody. You’ve spent this whole debate ranting about the war. You’ve been causing mayhem since the moment you arrived. You only ever create conflict. The people are hurting from it. They want peace. All you care about is war,” George steps in front of the podium and approaches Thomas as he continues pointing out the flaws in Thomas’ argument.

“Shush, gogy,” Thomas says, punching George. The court erupts in shouts. George adjusts his goggles. George pulls out a small book.

“I have receipts. I have proof of payment from Thomas to Karl. Of bribery,” George continues.

“Tommy, is this true?” Wilbur asks his younger brother.

“Uhhh, yes,” Thomas confirms.

Wilbur runs his hands down his face. This was supposed to be easy. Alex was reading aloud from the book. Wilbur pulls Thomas to the side as Tobias attempts to quiet the court.

“Tommy. What have you done, Tommy? You tried to bribe someone.”

“Yes, well, I didn’t really try. I actually did. I was very successful.”

“You are jeopardizing this whole election.” 

Thomas wanted to say much on this sentiment. He wanted to point out where he learned about such things. That we was just trying to make Wilbur proud.

He just wanted to be like his brother,  _ his friend _ .

The debate continues as Wilbur and Thomas attempt to save themselves from their own corruption through any tactics they can, mostly through very personal attacks.

It eventually evolves to Thomas slamming down a bundle of blue wool and saying, “What colour is this, you colorblind bitch?”

“Tommy, he’s red-green colorblind. Blue is like the one colour he can see fine,” Alex points out.

Finally, Wilbur snaps. “I will not tolerate these bias questions. This debate is a mockery. This man let a war desecrate our lands. To him, we are just a conquest. George doesn’t care about us. He doesn’t care about L’Manberg. I will not stand for this.” Wilbur marches out of the courthouse, leaving his allies and opponents alike alone with his words. 

The silence does not last long, as an arrow flies by, just narrowly missing Thomas. All look up and spot a masked figure cloaked in green holding a crossbow. Ëndërr has been watching from the sky light. He disappears and quickly as he appeared.

The debate is over, attempted assassination and all. Thomas returns home.

Fundy stops by the bakery to see a friend. She was a young woman with kind heart, but terrifying when made angry. Niki. She is in the middle of baking a cake when Fundy enters. She gives him a smile. He rests his head on the counter.

“What’s wrong, Fundy? Did the debate not go well?” She asks.

“The debate was a wreck. He still treats me like a child.”

“I take it that he wasn’t too fond of your plans to run for president?”

“He basically ignored me. Dismissed me. It’s not fair.”

“Well, are you giving it up then?” She slides the cake into the furnace. 

Fundy sits up, “No. Niki, will you be my running mate. For the party of Coconut?”

“Of course, Fundy, but..”

“Great. Don’t tell my father, it’s a surprise.” Niki nods and they began their own plans.

The night before the election, the parties are on the stage, doing some minute campaigning. Tobias is setting up chairs in the park for the announcement of the election results. Tensions were high.

George is no where to be found. Alex is getting anxious at the notion that is running mate may have over slept. 

Wilbur is much more confident, if not a bit tired. Things are looking up for him. He had a solid plan. He even approaches Alex and stretches out a hand. Alex shakes it. 

From the distance, a figure stumbles closer and closer.

The candidates present their official endorsements, celebrities and what not, in the hopes of swaying the voters. Giving them one final push as they wait for the polls to open. Alex studies each face, searching for the familiar face of his running mate.

George is not found.

The still air has extra chill hanging about. It is as if the universe itself as a sinister plan. 

In a way, it does.

The figure is closer, he wear a suit and stumbles directly into the river. That’s when he is noticed, sinking to the bottom. Thomas is the first to notice. He gets Wilbur’s attention and points. Alex and Thomas rush over to pull out the drowning man. 

He is familiar.

He coughs and continues to essentially drag himself to the stage.

Wilbur recognizes his face, though its been some time. The curled horns coming from his head help. He climbs atop the stage, a pool of cool river water, pooling beneath his feet.

“Remember me? It’s been a while. Being banned from Dreadian and all, but this..this isn’t Dreadian, is it?” He takes a not so secret swig from a flask.

“Schlatt.” Wilbur takes a step closer. “You-” Wilbur didn’t get to finish his thought. The old man had words to share.

“I would like to throw my hat in the ring.”

“What-?”

“I’m running for president.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now the fun begins : )


	6. The coalition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is time for the results of the election. Change is coming.

This was not the plan. 

This most certainly was not the plan.

Wilbur is at a loss for words. All he can do is laugh is disbelief. 

The election has begun. The voters will have their voices heard.

Wilbur needs a new plan. He needs to win this election.

He looks to Schlatt, who is lying on the floor, smoking a cigarette and coughing. His old friend. 

Very old. 

There was a time, years ago, where they were close. Before L’Manberg. But something went wrong.

Whatever it was, it resulted in Wilbur needing to sell blaze powder. And Schlatt, wondering around who knows where, doing who knows what.

Wilbur needs to win the election. 

He beckons Thomas and Alex to the side. “Listen, my friends, I have a modest proposal to ensure this country doesn’t go to complete shit. A coalition.”

Alex is listening. “Be more specific, Wilbur.”

“We merge out votes. Guarantee our victory. If POG win, you’ll have a place as sectary of state. And if SWAG wins, I’ll have a place as Vice President. That way- ” Wilbur explains.

“Wait, wait, hold on. I know you well enough, Wilbur. You’ll just use me. If you win, you’ll leave me in the dust.”

“Alex,” Wilbur motions to Schlatt, taking another drink, “Are you really willing to the country in incapable hands?”

“Oh, fuck off, Wilbur. You can’t manipulate yourself into power this time. Let the people have their say.”

“You’re running mate hasn’t even shown his face tonight,” Wilbur continues.

Alex has had enough. He exits the conversion.

Wilbur can feel his power slipping between his fingers like grasping at fine sand. 

There is nothing more he can do on this night, he decides. Come morning, there would be a victor. 

The votes have been counted. The people gather by the podium, the candidates gather on the stage.

Alex has a smug smile as he stands beside, surprisingly, George. Thomas stands towards the back, waiting to a tardy Wilbur. Schlatt stands, breath heavy, in the far back corner, watching. Fundy and Niki are dressed in matching suits and standing opposite of the others, nervous smiles on both their faces.

Wilbur arrives last. He looks around at the stage and fails to swallow his tongue.

“What are you doing here, Fundy?” Wilbur asks his son, exasperated.

“I’m a presidential candidate. So I’m here for the results,” Fundy says, feigning calm. 

“No. We’ve already had this discussion.” Wilbur runs a hand down his exhausted face.

“We were on the ballot.”

Wilbur can only shake his head. He reaches a hand in the ballot box and inspects one of the ballots. Sure enough, Coconut2020 was listed. In Fact, it had a large check mark beside it on this ballot.

Wilbur pulls out another. It is the same.

It wasn’t an easy stunt to pull, that was sure. Fundy had spent several nights putting together this act of technical fraud.

Wilbur sends the ballots away to be recounted, excluding the fraudulent votes this time. 

Meanwhile, Alex has news. 

“Oh. Wilbur. Mr.Schlatt and I will be forming a coalition.”

“What? He’s barely alive.” The day keeps getting worse.

“He’s said that I would be his vice president. That I just had to stand there and look sexy.”

“What a mess this is,” Wilbur mutters to himself. “And I see George has been found.”

Thomas and Alex joke about George and his sleep schedule. Wilbur receives the final count. He turns to the crowd. 

In the front row sits Tobias, cheering loudly whenever Wilbur takes center stage.

“Thank you all for coming here today to witness this historical moment. The passing of the first presidency of L’Manberg. I have with me the election results.” He takes a deep breath, “Not counting the additional fraudulent votes, coming from the party of Coconut,” Wilbur says.

“Is this true, Fundy?” Niki asks her running mate. Fundy looks everywhere but in her direction.

“SWAG ended up with 30% of the votes. Coconut with 9%. Schlatt with 16% and POG with 45%.”

“We won! We won! Mum, we won!” Thomas jumps around the stage.

“Not quite, Thomas. SWAG and Schlatt have pooled their votes and end up with 46%, meaning the new president of L’Manberg is Schlatt with VP Alex.”

“We lost. Mum, I lost.”

“With one percent of the vote, Schlatt has won the presidency. Mr.Schlatt, I want to say it was an honor, but-” Wilbur finds it best to leave that thought incomplete. “Please, Schlatt. Take your place center stage and deliver your inauguration speech.”

Wilbur starts walks off the stage into the crowd. Thomas stands on the edge, confused. 

“Wilbur, are you sure? By one percent?”

Wilbur doesn’t get a chance to response. Schlatt and Alex stand at the front of the stage. Schlatt turns to Thomas and says, “Thomas. Get off my podium.”

Thomas begins to stare down his new president, Wilbur can tell he wants to do more.

“Tommy, come here. We are citizens tonight. Listen to Schlatt.”

Eyes never leaving the man, Thomas enters the crowd and takes his spot beside Tobias. The await the speech. 

Alex acts as a hype man for him as Schlatt clears his throat. 

“Well...that was pretty easy.” He looks to his vice president, who chuckles. 

“And you know what I said; the day I once again stepped my foot in this land? I said things are going to change. I look every citizen of L’Manberg in the eyes and I say, this place will be a lit different tomorrow. Let’s start making it happen.” His stoic face begins to break, he feels a smile twist onto his cold lips. He wants to savor this moment. He wants to make it last.

“My first decree as the president of L’Manberg. No. The emperor! Of this great country!”

Thomas tries to get Wilbur’s attention. Wilbur’s eyes are focused on Schlatt. On the words leaving his mouth. 

“Is to revoke! The citizenship of the one and only Wilbur Soot! And Thomas!”

“What?” Thomas looks to Wilbur. The crowd grows louder. Some who cheer, others in states of shock and fear. 

“Get them off my land. Show these two idiots the door.” Several of those in the crowd have turned to Wilbur and Thomas, armed and slowly closing the gap between them.

“Run. Thomas. Run.” Those are the only two words Wilbur can muster.

Arrows fly by as Wilbur runs followed by a confused Thomas on his heels. The mob doesn’t let up. Wilbur fumbles with the cork of a glass bottle he is able to retrieve from the coat of his old uniform. He tosses one to Thomas and they chug its contents and disappear behind a corner. A potion of invisibility, leftover resources from the revolution.

“Until further notice, those two are simple memories. Relics of the past. A reminder of the darkest era this country has ever seen.” The only ones its seen, to be fair. Schlatt continues, “And I guarantee you all, dear citizens, tonight that changes. We are entering a new era of L’Manberg. An era of prosperity! Of strength! Of unity!” Schlatt rallies the crowd so naturally.

Thomas and Wilbur listen, crouched behind the towering walls. 

“Yes, sir,” Alex says, his smile growing.

“And fat asses. Dear god, turn around.” Schlatt looks to Alex.

Alex does a small twirl, “Thank you, thank you. Fattest ass in the cabinet.”

Wilbur would sigh if there wasn’t presently a man hunt on the look out. He rubs his temples and tries to come up with a plan. Quickly.

“Tobias, is it? Get up here,” Schlatt finds Tobias in the crowd, his uniform standing out. Tobias gulps and looks at the figure standing on the podium. “You’re the secretary of state. Get up here.”

“Wait, I’m sec -am I? I didn’t know I got to keep-”

Well, I have no plans to fire you. You’re like the only one here who gets shit done. Get up here. Now. Unless you don’t want the job?”

“No. No. I want it. I’m on my way.” Tobias pushes through the crowd and reaches the foot of the stage.

“Tobias? You want the job?” Thomas can only watch from a distant. 

Schlatt continues his grand speech, now with young Tobias by his side. “Tobias, as my secretary of state. As my right hand man!”

“Right. Okay.” Tobias’ eyes are darting around, searching for his now long gone friends.

“I need you to do something for me, Tobias.”

“What, Mr.President?” Tobias’ question brings a smile to Schlatt.

Schlatt crouches down, bring himself eye level with Tobias. “I need you to find, Thomas. And I need you to show him the door.”

Their potions have run out. Wilbur has to basically drag him into the wilderness away from the flying arrows, from the angry mob that has tracked them down. Away from Dreadian. Away from L’Manberg.

Oh, how quickly the tides rise and fall. How quickly do things change? How quickly do those who once praised you turn against you? 

They had built L’Manberg. Bled for L’Manberg. And the people had chosen to turn on them. The people, many they once considered friends, turned on them.

And for what?

Thomas and Wilbur steal a horse and ride deeper into the woods. The ride is silent except for their racing hearts. It takes them too long to notice the arrow lodged in Wilbur’s arm. 

He felt more pain elsewhere. 

They stop by a cave, tie the horse to a tree, and tend to their wounds.

They ones they could see at least.

Back in L’Manberg, Schlatt has more to announce. He stands on the stage and breaths in the air of the dawn. “People of L’Manberg!” He shouts, “the sun rises on another beautiful day in our country.” He looks now to the walls built by a traitor. The walls that kept them safe. The walls that formed their borders. “I reckon its time to expand. I reckon…” he speaks quieter now, as if sharing a secret. “...we take down the walls.”

There are gasps from the crowds.

“I don’t- I don’t think that’s a good idea, sir.” Tobias offers.

“Effectively immediately, all citizens of L’Manberg are required to help tear down the walls. Required.” He studies the faces that make up the crowd. Among them, is King Eret of Dreadian. 

A king is to remain neutral. That is what he had been told. It was his job to keep the peace, uphold the treaties. 

He watched the crowds swing down pickaxes of the walls he had built.

Eret can’t help but feel a small bit of pain watching his hard work be destroyed before his very own hidden eyes. 

He hadn’t initially planned his betrayal. It wasn’t until he had delivered their declaration of independence that Ëndërr offered him a gift. Eret wants only to succeed in his world. Ëndërr offered him kingship. Eret was quick to accept. Perhaps too quickly, but in all honestly he didn’t see much of a future for L’Manberg.

It was never meant to be, he had said. Maybe he truly was correct in his betrayal.

And now, he watches the consequences of his precedent. 

As morning comes to fruition, Wilbur stands over the horizon, watching the sun shine on what was once his nation. His home. He watches the pickaxes in the hands of his people break away the walls. He spots his son, Fundy, pickaxe in hand and standing beside Schlatt. 

“Oh, my god.” Wilbur covers his mouth with his hand, he watches the holes begin to form in the walls. 

Thomas stands behind him, some distance away. “Wilbur. Look away. Don’t do this to yourself.”

“No. I need to watch this. My son! My son is tearing down the walls in front of me. The walls I built to keep him safe.” Wilbur fails at choking back his sorrow. “I promised him this world, Tommy.” He falls to his knees. He has failed.

“I am so sorry, Wilbur.” Thomas can only offer. He stands beside his tearful brother.

“L’Manberg! My unfinished symphony! My great unfinished symphony.” Wilbur cries out, clutching his chest. Thomas sits beside him. He tries his best to comfort him. Wilbur turns to Thomas. “Will you sing the national anthem with me? One last time?”

Thomas nods, “One last time.”

Wilbur begins to sing, Thomas hums along. 

_ Well, I've heard there was a special place, _

_ Where men could go and emancipate, _

_ The brutality and the tyranny of their rulers. _

_ Well, this place is real, we needn't fret, _

_ With Wilbur, Tommy, Tobias, Fuck Eret, _

_ It's a very big and not blown-up L'Manberg _

_ My L'Manberg, My L'Manberg, My L'Manberg, My L'Manberg. _

After the somber farewell, Wilbur stands and wipes the evidence of tears from his face. 

“I can’t watch this,” he says and heads back to their new home. A small cavern. Their literal hole in a wall to call home.

Thomas follows.

“We have nothing, Thomas. We gave up literally everything for L’Manberg. We’re banned from Dreadian. Banned from our home. We’re literally cowering in the wilderness. Everything we’ve earned has been lost.”

“We’ve been reduced to nothing. Wh-why wouldn’t Tobias come with us? Why would he choose to stay with them?”

“I don’t know, Tommy. I don’t know how this happened.”

“We’ll get it back. Won’t we, Wilbur?”

In L’Manberg, Schlatt is speaking over the hard working bodies. He speaks about all the new changes he has in mind. He even decides to give Fundy a position in his cabinet after witnessing his enthusiasm for this new government.

At long last, Fundy thinks. Respect. Acknowledgment. 

“You know, I’ve got a lot of stuff I want to change around here. I’ve been thinking about the name. L’Manberg. I’m fond of it,“ Schlatt says. Alex raises a brow.

I think I’ll change it to Manberg now. Since we don’t take Ls!”

“Yes sirr.” Alex salutes. They laugh together, interrupted by a coughing fit coming from Schlatt. 

“What about the flag?” Fundy asks.

Schlatt waves his hand in the air, “Don’t really care. Burn it.” The trio laughs. Tobias watches history unfold before his eyes.

Fundy sets the flag ablaze with a simple flint and steel. It sends the necessary message. 

Things were changing.

The large piece of fabric quickly became engulfed in the flames, enough for it to be seen in much of Dreadian. Niki smells the smoke from her bakery, where she hides from the required destruction of the walls. She follows out and sees her friend burning her nation’s flag.

“Fundy?” She fails to call out. She feels the tears well and fall down her cheeks. Near by, King Eret watches the flag burn away as well. The smoke smelt of the trouble brewing for the two nations. 

“Thomas?” Wilbur gets his little brother attention. Thomas is studying their few belongings, organizing them. “I am going to make Mr. Schlatt pay for this.” He rubs his tired eyes and sits on the makeshift bed rolls. Thomas listens. “I am a slow burning fuse. I am telling you now, I am a different man. Different from the one Schlatt crossed. I can feel it.” Betrayal. A hint. A motif to his life.

“You and me are a duo now. It’s you and me against the world, pal.” Thomas adds. Wilbur is staring at the wall. He’s thinking. Planning. Even in his rage, he is planning.

“I need to get this fucking uniform off,” Wilbur finally says. 

That night it storms. The worst in years. The Manberg mob calls off their search for Wilbur and Thomas. For the time being at least.

A caped figure rides into Dreadian on horseback. He’s followed the smoke. The rumors. He spots the horse, sleeping beneath a tree. He steps into the cavern and shakes the rain off his booted hooves.

“So I heard you guys might need some assistance overthrowing the government?” Enter The Blade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to weekly updates. I have the most of the story outlined already, but I've never written a story without an ending so we'll see how this goes. It's been interesting so far to say the least.


	7. Enter The Blade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A figure from the past arrives and offers his aid. Tensions rise in Manberg.

Wilbur’s grief stricken eyes find the source of the voice. “Techno?”

“Hey,” calmly, says the pig. Literal pig, that is. Snout and all. Though he stood gracefully on two legs. A golden crown sits atop his head and a crimson, velvet robe hangs off his shoulders. He ties his armored horse to a nearby tree.

Thomas and Wilbur watch his movements with caution.

Thomas was just a boy last time Techno was in his life. He lacked the coherent memories, but Wilbur had known Techno his whole life.

“Hey? We’re brothers, Techno. We grew up together. We used to spar together when we were younger. You always won and then...” Wilbur trails off, overcome with memories. Memories of hurt and heartache. Memories of bonding and affection.

He’s lost so much as of late. But tonight, he had some of his family back.

“Now, I wouldn’t go that far.” Techno feeds his horse, Carl, an apple.

“What are you doing here?” Thomas interjects, “How did you find us?”

“I heard about your little project. Government, huh? How’d that work out for you?”

“News moves fast, huh?” Wilbur crosses his arms, “Why are you here, Techno? What do you want?”

“I thought I was pretty straightforward. I’m offering you help in overthrowing an elected government official. Whether or not you take it, that’s up to you.”

Wilbur was reluctant. Who could blame him?

But deep down, Wilbur trusted Techno. His old friend. His brother. He understood Techno, growing up together does that. He knew what Techno wanted from the world.

At least, he once did. 

It had been years since they’ve last seen each other. Since they last spoken.

They didn’t leave on the best of terms after all.

Wilbur stretches out a hand and shakes Techno’s hand.

Meanwhile, things are moving fast in Manberg. Schlatt is discussing all his grand plans with Alex. Plans for demolition and construction. Tobias takes notes. The walk through the small nation and stop at the caravan, collecting dust and patched with discolored wood. 

“Let’s get rid of this eye sore next, hmm?” He says with a wave of his hand.

“What? You want to get rid of the caravan?” Tobias feels like his very bones have iced over. “You can’t do that.” He regrets the words as soon as he sees the frown that appears on Schlatt.

“I can’t? And why is that?” 

Alex jumps in. “It’s history, man. Come on.”

“History? It looks more like the location for a brand new housing complex, I’d say. Maybe a Manberg Inn?”

“This is where the nation began. This is how we got started. You can’t get rid of it. Please.” Tobias pleads. 

Schlatt studies the kid’s face. Something in the eyes looks familiar. He shrugs. “Fine. I’ll tell you what. We’ll keep this bit of history. Build the inn somewhere else.” Tobias releases a long held breath as Schlatt and Alex continue their walk. Tobias doesn’t follow. He looks at the old caravan. Such bright memories.

Such cruel ones as well. 

But it was a relic of the past that he couldn’t let go of. 

Alex reminds Schlatt that he is only in office because of him. He speaks in barely audible whispers. From anybody else, it’d be a threat. 

Alex demands respect. Schlatt agrees and takes a long sip from his flask. He doesn’t notice Tobias head off into the woods. 

Tobias had felt like he knew Thomas his entire life. They had always been a team, the two of them. A pair of troublemakers.

The boys have fought many battles by this point, some more bloody than others. All because of those two meaningless disks. 

Why did Thomas care about them so much? Why did Ëndërr? Did anybody know?

When Thomas gave up the disks for L’Manberg, for the nation’s freedom, Tobias had hope that Thomas had grown. Shifted his priorities. 

But still, the past couple of years were filled with plots and conspiracies of getting back his precious disks. 

Was there any care for L’Manberg?

The boys had known each other for so long and for so long, Tobias had been by his friend’s side, following his lead, even when he knew is wasn’t what was best for the nation and its fragile alliances. 

Now Tobias stood alone. He stands in the forest and he listens carefully for some sign of life. For a sign of his out casted friends.

Why did Tobias stay? Why did he accept the job?

Perhaps because Manberg, the former L’Manberg, was his home. It was a stable place of belonging. It was a dream he believed in, even if at times it felt he was the only one to believe in it. 

Tobias missed Thomas. He missed Wilbur. Part of him wishes he had just ran off with them. That he too had fled flying arrows and angry mobs. 

But what good would that do for the nation?

Tobias walks deeper into the woods.

“Techno. Will you train us?” Wilbur asks. The three of them stand in the cave

“Okay.” The Blade says with a shrug. 

“We’ll need supplies. Weapons, armor, food…”

“Potatoes?” Squint and you could see a hint of emotion on his face.  


“Potatoes,” Wilbur turns to Thomas, “We need a name. For our little rebellion. Something catchy. Something trend worthy.”

Thomas begins to rattle off ideas, all dismissed quickly.

“Do you remember what you wanted to call L’Manberg all those years ago...Pogtopia. How does that sound?”

“Kinda cringe, not gonna lie.” The two look at their piggish  companion, “But I don’t care. Not what I’m here for.”

“Pogtopia it is then,” Thomas jumps up when he hears footsteps approaching from the cave entrance. Intimidating shadows dance on the walls crated by the dim lantern light.

Tobias enters cautiously.

In the deathly night, fire warms the cool and deathly breeze. The election podium has been set ablaze. The arsonist leaves as quickly as he arrived. King Eret, flint and steel still in hand, takes on last look at the remains of the walls. This was not history. This was tyranny. 

A king is to remain neutral, but Eret could not stand for this. Eret, the once traitor, decides it is time for a try at redemption. 

“Tobias?” Thomas wants to be angry. He wants to be angry that his friend would choose to leave his side. “Why didn’t you come with us?”

Tobias opens his mouth, he wants to explain all of his thoughts he’s been collecting on the very issue over these past few weeks. Instead, Wilbur interrupts.

“No. No. This is good.” He approaches the boy, “Tobias. You could be our man on the inside.”

Only moments after reuniting, Tobias is assigned a task. He is convinced to act as a double agent for them. To feed them information about Schlatt’s plans. To sow seeds of bitter doubt into both Alex and Schlatt about one another.

Tobias is happy to be so easily forgiven. Happy to be in familiar company. He accepts and is sent back to Manberg, now a Pogtopia spy.

But to to the lack of everyone’s knowledge, Tobias is not the only spy amongst Schlatt’s cabinet. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only have time for a short update this week, but I'm excited for the next few parts :)


	8. The Spy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Manberg is changing. Pogtopia is growing stronger.

“Now this, this is a good flag. With the purple. Much better than that other one,” Schlatt half studies the sketch. Mostly he is preoccupied by the dumbbell in his fist.

“I’ll get started then,” Fundy’s furry face is bright at the mere glimpse of an ounce of approval. An ounce of respect.

Manberg is changing. Growing. Thriving?

The old nation is gone. The old laws are gone. 

Fundy’s changed. Changed as much as he needs to. He’s moved through the Manberg’s ranks. It’s all he could ever want.

He keeps a journal. Keeps it tucked beneath his bed. Only writes in private.

Surely, he wouldn’t be hiding anything.

Pogtopia has begun to grow as well. Techno’s been busy. He’s built an extravagant potato farm. 

Thomas and Wilbur spend most of the days bickering over small things with no weight in the conflict. Aesthetic decisions mostly. 

Tobias has been busy. Each night we travels into the woods and provides Pogtopia with any intel he’s been able to gather. Who goes where and who says what. 

And during the day he runs errands for President Schlatt. He slips in a rumor here and there when he remembers. During his free time, the organizes the archives reading in the former bunker. He’s found many ancient texts as well as historical documents from L’Manberg’s early years. He is left to his own devices. He quickly discovers that he doesn’t mind the quiet.

He quickly realizes that maybe, just maybe, Manberg wasn’t so bad.

Tobias gets his hands on Schlatt’s presidential to do list. It turns his blood icy and cold. He hides the document beneath his shirt when no one is looking and that night he nearly sprints into the woods, wrinkled parchment in hand.

He is caught. On this night, Schlatt finds the teen outside in the autumn night air. 

“Where you off to, kid?” The words are like bitter ice on his ears. He clutches the parchment behind his back and steadies his breath. 

Think fast.

“Uh, I have to go..somewhere.” 

Think of something.

“Why?” Schlatt leans forward, waiting.

“I’m-uh- pregnant. Yup.” Tobias doesn’t wait for Schlatt’s reaction, instead he hurries off to his destination.

“O...kay?”

Wilbur is tripping down the stairs when Tobias arrives. Tobias clutches the parchment in his fist. He debates whether or not he’s doing the right thing. Helping Pogtopia. Spying on Manberg.

Wasn’t Schlatt a democratically elected leader? Sure, his plans were a bit unorthodox. Maybe, Schlatt was unfit to lead. To rule. His cough has been getting worse. His heart was weak. His mind was going. That’s what Dr. Limau had said.

Tobias looks around the cavern for his friend. It is then when Wilbur notices the paper in Tobias’ fist. “What have you got there?”

Tobias reads the content of the page once more. “Oh. This is-it’s just some of Schlatt’s plans for Manberg.” 

“Can I see it?” Wilbur holds out his hand upwards from his place on the floor. Tobias hands him the parchment. Wilbur sits upright and reads the document. 

Soon enough he is up on his feet. He is shoving potions into a bag and heading towards Manberg . He needs to see a friend. He needs to make sure she’s okay. 

Thomas is no where to be found. Neither is Techno. 

Wilbur has to do this alone.

Wilbur presses his back against wall of the notorious white house. He listens. He hopes the bloody potion doesn’t wear off yet. He only stops to here his son’s voice.

“So, what? Wilbur’s like your dad then?” Schlatt asks the young fox. 

Fundy sighs, “No. He’s just-he was just the president. And this is my home. He doesn’t matter anymore. He’s no father to me.”

Wilbur releases a gasp that he nearly fails to catch. “Fundy…”

  
  


From outside the white house, a shrill voice calls out. Thomas stands beneath the new and improved Manberg flag. He grips a flint and steel in his fists. “I’m going to burn down your flag if you don’t come over here right now.” 

Good distraction.

“Then we’ll make a new one. Even better.” Schlatt shouts from the window, a chuckle escaping from his throat.

Not good enough.

“Come out here. Right now! I’ll do it. I’ll really do it.” Schlatt, Alex, and Fundy stand out on the balcony and watch Thomas set the flag ablaze. It burns quickly.    
They don’t react. “Come out here and face me. Or I’ll…” Thomas scans the area, he searches fro some sort of leverage. “Party Island.” He finds the small cluster of land that stands in the middle of the lake. “Say goodbye to your tourism. I’ll burn Party Island.” 

Though it doesn’t work as intended, Wilbur is able to slip away as the men watch Thomas’ spectacle. Schlatt sends the guards to take care of the little problem.

Wilbur rushes off, back towards Pogtopia. He slows down at the sight of a familiar face. A young woman who’s eyes meet his. He freezes as she approaches. It’s been so long.

“Wilbur?” Niki says, “You came back.” She’s okay. 

“Niki. I need you to stay here. We’re working on something. A means to an end. But I can’t tell you yet. I need you to stay in L’Manberg.” Wilbur swallow the lump in his throat, “...Manberg.” 

Niki can only nod as Wilbur seems to drift back into the woods.

Their interaction, despite its brevity, does not go unnoticed. 

Niki is arrested. For tax evasion of all things.

She stands in the cell alone with her quiet rage. The expression on her face is subtle, but it is strong enough to frighten the Manberg guards. They leave her alone. President Schlatt and Vice President Alex take her case personally. 

“I’m raising taxes, just for you, Niki.” Schlatt speaks menacingly. Niki grips the iron bars until her knuckles are white and her palms red. Schlatt folds his hands behind his back and smiles. He leaves with a nod. Yes. This disobedience would not go unpunished. There would be no rebellion under his administration. 

Alex leaves the door open. He follows Schlatt out. Niki waits a moment, mind plagued with doubt. She runs home, to her bakery. She plots rebellion.

She had yet to pay her taxes.

Alex felt something for Schlatt. He thought he could mistake it for love. There were moments he though it could be mutual. Something deep. Something emotional. 

He was wrong.

It couldn’t be more than physical.

The Blade has been busy. Between farming vast amount of potatoes and gathering supplies, he hasn’t had much free time since arriving in the area.

He receives a letter. Stuck to a tree with a small blade. The hand writing is familiar. All that is present on the page is a set of coordinates and a simple :) 

He jumps into a (stolen) row boat and kicks off the port. He pushes his glasses up his snout and soon he is off.

Ëndërr stands, dramatically posed, on the peak of a mountain, waiting for Techno. He watched patiently as Techno slowly struggles to climb the mountain. He makes it to the peak, breathing heavy, and faces the masked figure. They knew each other, if only through mere rumors. Ëndërr trusted Techno. He could almost let his guard down. He nudges a wooden chest sat on the ground beside him. 

“This is for Thomas. I want to help, but I need to stick to the shadows. I can’t afford to be villainized again.”

Techno shrugs, “Okay?” He opens the chest to find powerful supplies and a rolled parchment inscribed to Thomas. When Techno looks up to question Ëndërr, Ëndërr is gone. Techno sighs, lifts up the chest, and slowly begins to climb down.

He returns that night to an empty Pogtopia. He sets the chest by the entrance and tends to his farm, waiting for the others to return from wherever they were. 

Thomas arrives first. He begins to question Techno on his absence. Techno jabs a finger towards the chest. 

“What? What is it?” 

“It’s from God.” Techno speaks just above a whisper. He chuckles to himself and turns back to his crops. 

“What?” Thomas asks, but that’s all the answer he’ll be getting. 

The journal. Fundy needs to keep the journal safe. 

It’s the startling thought that awaken him from an already uneasy slumber. He finds himself before the remains of the large flag. He’s already got plans for a new one. One that’s flame proof. 

But for now, his mind is focused on the dirt beneath him. He begins to dig. He buries the journal. Hides it with fallen leaves of the early autumn winds. He’ll only retrieve it when he has something to add. He can’t afford to be caught. He can’t afford for suspicions to grow. He still had a role to play.

Schlatt was already questioning the loyalties of those close to him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof life is chaos. Lot of catching up to do but oh well


	9. The Battle of the Burning Tower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grief, Revenge, and War. So an average day.

Thomas has always been quick to gain attachment. From people to seemingly worthless objects. Those bloody disks, for example.

Then there were his pets.

Pets didn’t last very long in Dreadian. Not with a certain someone lurking about…

Nicholas had an affinity for murdering people’s pets. Nobody quite knew why exactly, not even his fiance, Karl. Nicholas has had his fair share of conflict involving this seemingly uncontrollable urge. 

It was never intentional, he’d insist. He just wanted to play with them. 

Thomas had grown fond of a cow whom he named Henry. 

Perhaps, you can already tell where this tale will lead.

Shortly after his recent banishment from Manberg, he had left Henry the cow in the safe and capable hands of Niki. They had set him outside Manberg territory near the quartz mansion beside a beautiful wooden tower and small lake. This was built for the honeymoon that would never be.

On one warm night, Nicholas and Karl had decided to check on their spot. There they found sweet, wide-eyed Henry. Nicholas decided to take him for a walk. 

A walk off a cliff.

The next day, Niki found Henry missing. With sorrow in her aching heart, she got to news to Thomas.

He, of course, did not take the news well.

Even outcasted, he found himself marching towards the tower, yet to give himself time to mourn, to grieve another loss. He was angry. He needed an outlet for his adolescent rage. 

He wanted to burn that tower to the ground. 

He arrived to find that Nicholas had tied a chicken in Henry’s spot. 

Zakary, resident of the Quartz mansion, steps outside to see what the commotion is about. He finds Thomas shouting and trying to climb the tower. 

“What the hell are you doing?” He asks the angsty child.

Thomas slides down and turns to Zakary. “They killed my cow.”

“That’s rough buddy.”

“I’m going to tear this tower apart.”

“I feel like that’d kinda ruin my property value.” 

Thomas ignores him and continues to try and climb the tower. Zakary sighs. 

“Want some help at least?”

Thomas nods and the two of them begin looking for supplies for destruction. The stack up chests to climb up to the top.

“What is going on here?” The two arsonist turn around to see Ëndërr standing with his arms crossed. Thomas is already half up the tower. He looks down at the masked figure.

Despite their unstable history being drenched in conflict, Thomas had received Ëndërr’s gift of supplies.

But Nicholas was Ëndërr’s friend. One of his oldest friends.

  
  
  


“He killed Henry. Let me burn it.” It was the only argument Thomas could muster.

“You know what, Thomas?” Ëndërr smiles beneath his mask. “I honestly just love the chaos. Go for it. I’ll help you even.” 

And help he does. 

The tower burns as brightly as Thomas’ rage. Revenge is dish best served engulfed in fire after all.

But he needed a scapegoat. He has had enough trouble as is.

Luckily, Danred has arrived home.

He walks into the quartz mansion, a couple of fresh baked loaves wrapped in cloth. He sets them on the kitchen counter and sniffs the air. He smells the dense and ugly smoke coming from nearby.

“Hmm?” Danred pulls up his hood back up and steps outside. 

“Hello there! Do you mind holding this for me?” Thomas shoves a flint and steel towards Danred.

“What?” Danred steps back.

“My friend. My friend! Stand right here and hold this.” Thomas tries again with a big grin.

“Bad-uh- Dan. Don’t.” Zakary tries to step in, but he is too late. Ëndërr leads Nicholas to the now burning tower where he finds Danred standing with the flint and steel.

Nicholas looks at Danred and then looks at Thomas, who only smiles and waves. 

“What the hell, Thomas?” Nicholas shouts.

“Me? I had nothing to do with this. Look for yourself!”

“You expect me to believe this?”

Someone approaches to investigate the neighboring flames. His name is Anthony. A good friend of Danred's. 

He is quite literally an anthropomorphic Siamese cat. That is to say, he tends to stand out among his peers, but not as much as you’d really expect given the strange characters that resided in the lands.

“Ant! Over here!” Danred beckons him over to the conflict, mostly hoping for an ally.

“What’s going on over here? Why is the tower on fire?”

“Danred burned it!” Thomas exclaims, pointing at the confused demonic figure. 

“No, he didn’t. You destroyed my honeymoon spot!” Nicholas grips his weapon.

“You killed Henry!”

“Yeah. I did. And you know what?” He bears his teeth in a big grin, “He made a fine steak dinner.”

In his rage, Thomas lunges for the man. He is quickly outnumbered as Nicholas, Danred, Zakary, as well as Anthony stand against him.

  
  


Ëndërr steps by Thomas’ side and leads him away from the conflict. He hands him a bucket filled with water and a single colorful fish swimming around. He turns to him and whispers, “This is Mars. Nicholas’ beloved pet fish. Don’t hurt it. Use it for leverage.”

Thomas tightly grips the bucket, nods, and runs back towards the flames.

  
  
  


“That kid’s an endless fountain of rage. He’ll use any excuse for war.” Ëndërr says aloud to himself. And then he is gone. Back to the shadows or wherever it is he resides.

All the way in Manberg, Niki watches the smoke rise in the distance. She wonders when the fires will stop. 

Without her answers, she runs of towards the flames and finds the men, now accompanied by Lukas the mercenary, searching for Thomas. 

Of course, they took her hostage. An easy way to lure out the child. 

However, he had leverage himself now.

Thomas swings to bucket as he approaches the armed men. 

Ant guards their hostage, the others grips swords and axes and face Thomas, expecting a short lived fight if even that. 

“You tried to frame us.” Zakary says with a frown.

Thomas ignores him and lifts the bucket higher up. “This look familiar?”

“Mars? But, how did you-”

“Run. Niki!” He shouts.

Niki shoves Ant to the ground and scrambles away from the conflict. She watches from a distance, processing. Hoping that this whole thing can end peacefully. Without more bloodshed.

“Give me the fish, Thomas.” Nicholas demands.

“Or what?”

“Or we’ll kill you.”

Thomas smiles. He’s heard these threats before. There was something nostalgic about it. 

But this time he had a solid plan. 

And the strongest possible allies.

“How would you do that?”

Nicholas laughs a little, he looks to the men to his sides. “Easily. There’s five of us and one of you.”

Thomas’ smile grows. “I’m not alone. I may be outnumbered but, I’ve got something you’ll never have.”

“What’s that?”

“I’ve got The Blade.”

On cue, Techno swoops in on horseback. He leaps into battle. It’s something familiar in this new world. Combat. They had only heard rumors of The Blade and yet here he was in his porkish flesh. 

After the initial shock of the twist has worn off, the fighting begins. Thomas hides the fish and does his best to keep up. In the midst of the fighting, Ëndërr seems to reappear. Perhaps to remind them of his own skills. Perhaps because his earlier words echoed true.

He was in it for the chaos. 

With two of the strongest allies imaginable, the battle is short with Lukas switching sides near the end as mercenaries frequently do. 

It ends with words of retreat and scampering away from blades and tending to injuries.

It ends with Thomas and Nicholas. They work to steady their breaths.

Thomas smiles with pride at the victory. Techno at the standby, the negotiations begin.

“A duel. You and I. One versus one combat.” Thomas offers.

“How’d that work out for you the first time?” Nicholas chuckles, gripping his side.

“If you win, you get the fish. And if I win…” he looks at Techno, then himself, then back to Nicholas. He quickly notices what may be lacking if the greater revolution of Pogtopia would take place. “I win, you give me your armor.”

Nicholas considers these terms. They shake.

The next morning, the two meet at King Eret’s museum. A crowd had formed to watch the highly anticipated end to the conflict.

The two dueled valiantly and shortly.

Thomas goes down with the first hit.

The crowd erupts in laughter. The disperse in disappointment, but a lack of surprise. Nicholas helps Thomas up. 

“Give me the fish,” he says.

Thomas nods and guides him back to the mansion, head hanging low.

He retrieves the bucket from its hiding spot and hands it to Nicholas. He smiles down at his beloved fish before sighing deeply.

“I’ve had enough, Thomas.” Nicholas kneels along the beach. Thomas stands beside him, mostly confused. “I didn’t mean to kill Fungi. Or Henry. Or any of them.”

Thomas sits besides him on the beach, listening for once.

“There didn’t used to be this much fighting. At least not with so much at stake. It used to be fun.” The sun has risen and bakes the beach front property in a warm glow. “I can’t blame you for it all. You have no idea how much conflict I’ve caused.”

He’s right. Sure, Thomas’ thirst for conflict had caused many problems in Dreadian from the moment he stepped foot in the lands. But Nicholas has had his fair share.

The list of pets he killed was too long for any record. The duels. The relationships put to the test.

Maybe it was time for a different approach.

“I think it’s time I put this all to an end.” He faces the salty ocean that sways gentle and warm. He give one last smile to Mars before emptying the bucket into the sea.

They watch the fish swim away and sit in silence.

Eventually, Nicholas stands up and turns to leave. Thomas decides to take advantage of this rare moment of calm.

“Has he told you about the disks? Perhaps where he’s gotten them hidden.”

Nicholas shrugs. “Zakary has one. Him and Danred, I think.”

Thomas looks at the mansion and swears. This whole time he was so close to the thing he most desired.

The two go their separate ways, both a little lighter, a little more unburdened.

Both grieving their losses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to reorganize a few things, but Dreamon hunters are next :))


	10. There be demons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> well, dreamons at least.

All things considered, life was relatively calm. Quiet even. 

Manberg stood bare, it’s invisible borders seemingly expanding inch by inch. And despite the looming threats of conflict, for many it was business as usual. 

Tobias had found himself sorting through the archives that reside in the former L’Manberg bunker. He’d spend his free time going through what could only be described as ancient scriptures. 

Mostly he studies the intricate drawings. 

There’s something strangely familiar in them. Something he’s sure he’s seen before.

On one particular day, he finds himself roaming Dreadian. Searching for something. He wasn’t sure what. He studies the ancient book in his hands.

Fundy taps Tobias on the shoulder from behind. Tobias jumps into the air and yelps. 

“Good god, Fundy. You almost gave me a heart attack.”

Fundy laughs, “Sorry. What are you up to?” He peaks at the book in Tobias’ hands.

Tobias thinks for a moment. The two of them have grown closer. Shared plenty of laughs. Scammed a few folks. 

Tobias decides he trust the fox. 

“Fundy, have you ever heard of Dreamons?” 

“Demons?

“No. Much worse. I’ve been doing some research while working in the archives,” Tobias explains. Fundy shakes his head. 

Tobias clutches the book and motions for Fundy to follow him. He leads him to the archives. He explains what he can.

Dressed in gold and gardening hoes in hand, the boys study the drawings closely.

“What about Danred? Isn’t he a demon? Or something?” Fundy inquires.

“I mean...I guess? He couldn’t be a Dreamon though. I think he’s practically harmless.”

In a way, they were correct. He was practically harmless. For the most part. He lived with his close friend, whom he loved dearly, in the Quartz Manor in Dreadian. Some said Danred was a demon from the fiery underworld, inherently a blood thirsty, violent creature. Others said he was a fallen angel soaked in regrets. Danred, however, had renounced his violent urges. He learned to mediate and control his breathing. He did this all for the sake of his beloved friend. Sure, there were moments were he struggled to quiet his rage. Where he imagined ripping Zakary’s heart from his chest. 

But he would never, right?

No. He wasn’t much for taking sides or pointing fingers. He just wanted to help people. Take care of his friends.

Even if his mind would occasionally wander or crave the taste of human flesh, he had gotten very good and settling down. Baking some muffins. Petting a nice little dog. After all, it wasn’t just horns hidden beneath his hood, but a small, brightly glowing halo. 

Zakary and Danred were soulmates. It was the only thing that made sense. From the moment they met, the red strings of fate had tugged them together.

Danred would give up his immortal life for Zakary. He has.

They would not be separated by death. They would live together or they would die together.

“I swear, I’ve seen this before…” Tobias trails off, focusing on the pages before him.

Fundy squints at one of the drawing and holds it up against his face. Realization creeps across his eyes. “It’s Ëndërr.”

“Are you sure?” Tobias asks, inspecting the image in an identical manner. He gasps. He doesn’t need an answer. 

Within this ancient text is a sketch of a masked figure that looked eerily similar to their original tormentor. 

“We’ll perform an exorcism then!” Tobias decides.

They find Ëndërr walking along one of the wooden paths. The approach him with caution, holding out their gardening hoes as if they’d be a source of defense.

At first, he pretends not to notice the two strange friends. Then the starting hoeing the ground beneath their feet and Tobias shouts at him. Asks him to follow them.

Ëndërr smiles beneath his mask and decides to play along. He shrugs and follows closely behind.

They begin the odd ritual. Or at least, they do what they can understand from the books’ cryptic language. Incantations and spinning around in circles and throwing eggs before hiding in some bushes.

“We can’t look. Not until the ritual has been completed,” Tobias explains.

Ëndërr’s body moves in strange and painful ways. Like his neck has been disjointed. He’s quiet, even as the movements speed up.

Tobias peeks from the bushes just Ëndërr’s body stills. Catching only a split glance at the finishing ritual. Surely, such a small peek would do not harm. 

Tobias and Fundy leave the safety of the bushes and approach Ëndërr.

“Did it work?” Fundy asks, “Did we get rid of it?”

Tobias studies Ëndërr ‘s masked face. Ëndërr tilts his head, confused.

“What is your IQ?” Tobias inquires.  
“Seventy-five,” he responds.

Tobias nods. “Okay. Okay. That’s good!” He looks around and points to a nearby camp fire. “Do you like fire?”

Ëndërr walks up to the campfire and stares at it for a couple of beats. Fundy and Tobias trail behind from a safe distance. 

Ëndërr stomps out the fire. “No. Scary.”

“That’s good, right?” Fundy asks is mentor. Tobias doesn't answer and instead leads the trio down the path.

“Potentially. We just have one more test. To see if the Dreamon is really gone.” He stops at a metallic door made of iron. Ëndërr’s worst fear. He turns to Ëndërr. “Step behind the door.”

At first, it seems like he’ll do it. Face some silly fear. 

Instead he pulls out his sword and swings it at Tobias.

“Ahh! Still a dreamon! He’s still a dreamon!”

Tobias and Fundy shout out and begin to run for their lives. They are followed closely behind. 

“Wait!” Fundy shouts out, “I have an idea. Distract him.” 

Tobias is doing his best to distract the enraged man. He has no clue what Fundy is planning or why he keeps looking for chocolates. 

Ëndërr pursues Tobias and Fundy searches the area for his supplies. Tobias can't hold the dreamon off for long. He heads into Fundy's direction, thinking about praying that he's ready.

Ready enough.

“Remember our date? Remember this?” He holds out a diamond ring. Tobias is confused, but decides to go along with it. It’s better than the current situation.

Ëndërr stills. His head seems to snap into various directions.

And then he starts floating into the air. Higher and higher. Until he disappears from their vision.

Tobias and Fundy stare into the sky. Dumbfounded and speechless.

They slowly make turn to make their way back to Manberg, but a figure stands before them.

In almost every manner, the figure seems identical to Ëndërr.

Except for the fact he seems to hover in the air, feet never touching the ground.

“Uhh, Tobias? What going on? Did we do something wrong?”

Tobias picks his jaw up from the floor. “I- I think it worked. We just-” he catches his breath. “I think we separated Ëndërr and the dreamon. He must have been a Transmuted Dreamon. Where he shifts between his normal self and a Dreamon. That would explain how he doesn't the dreamon's actions.”

“So...that’s the dreamon, then? We split him?” 

Tobias begins to nod, but the answer becomes increasingly obvious as the figure lunges for him. Tobias shouts and continues running back to Manberg. 

Tobias and Fundy begin making plans. For recruitment, testing, and so much more. They decide, for the time being at least, to keep the dreamon threat quiet as to not cause alarm. They knew what needed to be done. And it was a fantastic business opportunity. 

When the re-emerge, they find the nation of Manberg gathering by the reconstructed stage. They give one another a confused glance before rushing over.

They find President Schlatt taking center stage. The watch from backstage, unaware of what exactly is going on. 

Breath booze heavy, Schlatt smiles and shouts across the crowd, “In one week, we will have a festival.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> life is chaos and numbers exhaust me.


End file.
